Right Said Fred
by hjea
Summary: Fred, George and Charlie adventures in furniture moving.


Disclaimer: If you think these characters belong to me, then you're obviously 1) Not in the right fanfic section if you don't know Harry Potter characters or 2) Very gullible.  
  
This story is not exactly an original idea, it's based on a song called, (you guessed it) 'Right Said Fred'. Hilarious song, so go and listen to it if you can. Toodles!  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Right."  
  
Said Fred. "Well that's a bugger."  
  
The Weasley twins stood in the attic in The Burrow, gazing with resigned resentment at the monstrosity that they were expected to move out of the house. Mrs. Weasley would never let any of her sons get away with anything, and Fred and George's abrupt exit from Hogwarts, to start a magical joke shop, was definitely something she was NOT going to let them get away with. Though the immediate success of the twins' shop had softened her up a bit, Fred and George were now expected to do household chores around The Burrow on their only day off for the rest of the summer.  
  
The problem today was a huge...well actually George didn't really know what it was. It was huge, that was for certain. Two great slabs of marble joined together to make a sort of a bench, dusty black cushions giving a feeble attempt to make it look comfortable. Great clawed iron feet poked out from under it, and iron handle-like things emerged from both sides, tapering into candlesticks that held no discernible purpose.  
  
Fred pulled a face, "Merlin's beard, that things ugly. No wonder Mum wants it out."  
  
George looked over at his twin, "Where d'you think it came from anyway, I've been up to the attic loads of times, it's never been here before."  
  
"Mum reckons that it's a long lost order that some Great-great uncle made - finally got here."  
  
"Well Mum said it's impervious to magic, so we can't move it that way, and she wants it gone by nightfall."  
  
Fred looked pensive for half a moment.  
  
"Right."  
  
He strode over to the thing. "I'll get this end, you get the other one, and we'll lift it."  
  
George looked at him sceptically.  
  
"Oh c'mon George, it can't hurt."  
  
* *  
  
Apparently it could.  
  
After heaving and straining, trying to lift the thing a fraction of a centimetre off the ground, the twins had given up, sat down to a cup of tea Mrs. Weasley had sent up and nursed their wounds.  
  
"Right, we need help."  
  
George groaned and rubbed his back. "Brilliant observation there. Okay, who'll we get? Ron's around isn't he?"  
  
Fred snorted. "Probably off snogging Hermione somewhere."  
  
George cracked open an eye, "Gotten his act together has he?"  
  
Fred shrugged, "Oh I dunno, but you couldn't drive a bludger through the wall of sexual tension those two've built up."  
  
George smirked and stood up, scowling at the impassive...thing that took up half the attic's space.  
  
"Well, I'll just call a name out and see who comes up shall I?"  
  
Going over to the stairs, he thought for a moment before sticking his head down,  
  
"Oi, Charlie! Give us a hand will you?"  
  
Fred nodded approvingly, "Good choice."  
  
Charlie was soon in the attic, carrying a thermos of tea and looking eager to help.  
  
"Mum said you two might be incompetent, let's give it a go shall we?"  
  
The twins exchanged a look.  
  
"Right Charlie, we'll just...lift it then?"  
  
Charlie looked unsuspectingly at them, "Yeah why? Can't be that hard can it?"  
  
* *  
  
Ten minutes later, Charlie was scowling just as heavily as the twins were at the thing, still in the exact location that it had been before.  
  
"Bloody hell," George murmured, as he accepted a mug of tea from Fred, "We're never gonna move the darn thing."  
  
Charlie suddenly adopted an expression that George knew too well, and usually either led to a lecture on the benefits of dragons, or very stupid ideas.  
  
"Why don't we..." Charlie slowly said, "-Get rid of the some of the extras on this thing, like these stupid accessories," he said, gesturing to the handles on either side.  
  
George looked doubtful. But Fred immediately seized on the idea and proceeded to knock the handles off with a Muggle tool that Mr. Weasley called a 'Crowbar'.  
  
When the job was done, Fred motioned for his brothers to take up either end. "Useful thing that - don't see what it has to do with a crow though."  
  
* *  
  
Taking off the handles had not made it easier to move, not that George had expected it to, and neither had Fred's suggestion of taking the feet and cushions off as well. The three boys stood around and drank more of the tea, wondering what to do next.  
  
"Don't suppose there's anyone else in the house who could help?" Fred asked hopefully.  
  
Charlie shook his head, "Everyone went out 'cept Bill."  
  
Fred looked up; "We couldn't ask him?"  
  
Charlie gave threw him a darkly significant look.  
  
"Oh right," Fred smiled roguishly, "Mademoiselle Delacour."  
  
Charlie groaned, "I've done a silencing charm on his room for the past three nights they've been staying here - hasn't done a bit of good."  
  
George patted him sympathetically on the arm. "I wonder if Bill's still telling Mum that he's helping Fleur improve her English? Hers is better than mine now, he's going to have to come up with a new excuse."  
  
"Right!" Fred said out of the blue. "It's coming off."  
  
The other two turned to look at him. "What's coming off?" George asked apprehensively, half afraid of the answer as he saw his twin staring meaningfully at the door.  
  
"That door. I know the thing moved a little last time - " Charlie snorted "- and if we had enough space to get it out, I reckon we could do it."  
  
It wasn't actually any worse of an idea then the previous ones, so Charlie and the twins performed a removing charm on the hinges. Unfortunately, the prodigal ghoul didn't take kindly to that, but they managed to take the door down with only minimal damage to their hearing from the ghoul's screeching above their heads.  
  
* *  
  
Unfortunately, the door's absence didn't make it any easier to move the rotten thing, nor had Fred's sudden desire to take the wall down too, and the boys were soon once again standing around glaring at it, nursing mugs of tea.  
  
Charlie shook his head and stared at the ceiling, "This is getting ridiculous."  
  
Tilting his head to one side, still staring at the ceiling, Charlie blinked and smiled.  
  
"I've got a feeling," He started in his this-is-going-to-be-a-very-stupid- idea voice.  
  
"Oh no," thought George.  
  
Fred looked eagerly at his older brother who continued to speak.  
  
"If we take the ceiling off, we could make - a kind of hole and then go get our broomsticks and some rope and - just lift the bugger up!" Charlie smiled, obviously pleased with himself for coming up with the idea.  
  
Fred didn't pause to think.  
  
"Right, brilliant Charlie!" And grabbing his wand and the crowbar for good measure, he strode to the middle of the room, pointed his wand up to the ceiling and shouted something that sounded disturbingly like:  
  
"Annihilare!"  
  
There was a huge cracking noise and the attic was enclosed in a thick cloud of plaster-dust.  
  
Coughing, George waved his arms in front of him to try and dissipate the dust. Beside him, Charlie muttered something, and the attic was suddenly clear again. "That works too."  
  
Blinking in disbelief, the boys viewed the damage Fred's spell had caused. Charlie shook his head in disbelief; "It was only a suggestion."  
  
Fred was lying sprawled in the middle of a pile of rubble, clearly knocked out cold. George approached him, concern evident on his face, before Fred rolled his head to one side and muttered something that sounded distinctly like "Angelina".  
  
George grinned and shrugged; "He'll be fine."  
  
Charlie came and stood beside George, silently handing him the last of the tea in the thermos, which he finished in a gulp. "Wow. Mum's going to have kittens!"  
  
He looked at his younger brother, lying prone, the causer of the whole mess. "Reckon we should get him up?"  
  
George shook his head, "Nah, may as well enjoy himself while he can. Mum's never going to let this one go."  
  
Charlie nodded, and, seemingly resigned to their mutual fate, turned to the staircase. "Coming down?"  
  
George blinked. "Yeah for sure..." Then seeming to remember something, he turned to the thing and pointed his wand at it holding it for half a minute before uttering the reducing spell.  
  
The thing was now the size of a toy car, and George nonchalantly picked it up and chucked it out the window.  
  
Charlie looked up surprised, "Thought you said it was impervious to magic?"  
  
"Yeah. I just remembered a spell Dad taught me though, gets rid of simple blocking charms."  
  
Charlie shrugged and turned down the stairs with George following close behind.  
  
"Man, I really got to use the loo." 


End file.
